Caer Luen trembled against the might of a terrible storm. At first, it seemed like any other windstorm. The small border fortress had seen many during its long watch over the Ru'eni Empire and the Pass of Changing Winds. The current siege upon its walls, however, was far from standard. Had the keep not been built to withstand an initial invasion from the Ru'eni, its walls would have been devastated.

The Beacon of Keilan's Gaze, on the other hand, was built with a different purpose in mind, and it was visibly swaying in the wind. In the face of such a force, its mighty height would be its downfall.

Commander Feldrik feared for the men and women who called the tower home. If they didn't retreat to the caves below, it was likely they wouldn't survive and the young lord who watched over them was a stubborn fool.

"Rias! Get me the Communications Array," Feldrik called out to his Lieutenant.

With a quick salute, Lieutenant Rias took her leave from the Commander's temporary office. They had been forced to abandon his primary office due to the storm, but in their haste, they had forgotten to bring a few strategic essentials with them. Now he just hoped that such essentials hadn't been completely devastated.

Some of his worries were alleviated when Rias returned with the crystalline structure and book of configurations in hand.

"It's a bit wet, Commander, but the ink doesn't appear to be overly smudged," Rias announced as she handed over the book.

The dampness was palpable as he opened up the book to find the configurations he needed. At first, it seemed as if his Lieutenant's assessment was reasonably accurate when an inky mess of a page fell out from near the back of the book.

"We may have lost a few configurations," Rias said, amending her statement. "Namely, your father and General Tengri."

"Still not on speaking terms with your uncle?" Feldrik asked.

"I just feel it prudent to use his rank when referring to him in a military context, Commander."

"Then I will choose to ignore the slight smile you gave when you mentioned the loss of his configuration."

"I appreciate it."

There was no point in prying any further and Feldrik wasn't sure he wanted to. General Tengri was unique at the best of times and his relationship with his adopted niece was rather unusual.

The room fell into an awkward, storm-filled silence as Feldrik searched the book for the configuration he required. When he found it, he was glad to see that it was still recognisable. Not wanting to waste any more time and praying it wasn't too late, Feldrik configured the Communication Array and sent the signal to the tower.

After several long, arduous minutes, a raging cacophony assaulted their ears as the tower finished the link. A small voice found its way through, barely more than a whisper against the storm.

"Commander Feldrik, is that you?"

"It is, aye. Are you evacuating?"

Feldrik wasn't sure who he was talking to, but it didn't really matter as long as they could give him answers.

"To a limited extent, yes. Roughly a third of us have retreated to the caves, but Lord Darren refuses to abandon his post, and the others won't leave him."

"I should have known. Any casualties?"

"Four, plus near enough an entire watch of farseers."

Feldrik winced at the report. Such losses were a tragic blow.

"Right. Get me Lord Darren before this storm kills anyone else."

"Yessir!"

They returned as quickly as could be expected with Lord Darren in tow.

"Commander Feldrik. In any other circumstance, I'd say it was a pleasure, but we are under attack."

Lord Darren's voice was clear and confident in a way that cut through the roaring that accompanied it.

"I am well aware of that, milord. You must evacuate before it's too late."

"Nonsense! This tower won't fall as long as I remain vigilant!"

"Lord Darren, you've already lost too many men."

"And I feel their sacrifices most keenly, but if we evacuate now, we'll leave ourselves wide open. I will not hand this pass over to the Empire!"

Feldrik was starting to lose his patience. If there was ever a time for Lord Darren's stubborn antics, this was not it.

"If we lose you and the tower, you'll be doing just that! The tower was not built to withstand this kind of assault."

"The other men and women can evacuate if they deem it necessary. I, however, will not leave my post."

"They won't leave you to die!"

"That's…"

"Enough! As your military superior, I order you to evacuate!"

Feldrik wasn't sure if pulling rank would be enough — Lord Darren wasn't serving in a strictly military capacity, after all — but it was worth a shot. The response he got, however, was far from comforting as the sound of crashing stone raked at his ears.

When the connection to the tower broke, he feared the worst. Fortunately, it was re-established after only a few seconds. Several voices joined the discordant harmony on the other side, with one calling out with enough volume that it came through the connection clearly enough for Feldrik to hear it.

"Milord! The beacon has fallen!"

"What!"

The outrage landing on Feldrik's ears was a relief, to be sure, as it indicated that Lord Darren was alive at the very least. That relief soon turned to dread as another voice called out.

The last thing Feldrik heard before the connection died again was, "Milady, no!"

*****

A few days later, once the storm passed, Feldrik rode out to Keilan's Gaze with a small escort to assess the damages personally.

It was a disaster.

The once majestic tower lay in ruins. Like a shooting star that once lit the night sky, it had come crashing down. Keilan was blind and there was nothing they could do about it.

They would need to rebuild the beacon from the ground up. Before that, however, they'd need to look for survivors. Feldrik sent a rider back to Caer Luen with orders to bring back a search team before starting the initial search with the rest of his escort.

"This is awful," Rias remarked solemnly.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

She was right. There weren't many bodies, not yet at least, but the ones that were visible had been battered and broken by the devastation. It was already too much, but not quite enough for Feldrik to give up hope. It helped that he had been told that at least a third of the men and women had made the retreat.

"Everyone spread out," Feldrik ordered. "I'll take the cave entrance."

He gave himself the most dangerous area as it required entering the ruined base of the tower. A small bit of rubble clattered against the ground as he pushed the heavy door aside. The scene inside was much as it had been outside, only more visceral. A less seasoned soldier would have been at risk of losing his lunch.

It was clear that most of the damage was from crush injuries, though a few probably died from impact after the upper floors gave way beneath them. Feldrik's heart ached with every confirmed loss. It was the one aspect of military service that never got any easier and while it hurt, he prayed it was a pain he'd never become numb to.

Rather than waste time checking what little remained of the upper floors, Feldrik made his way to the rear, where he found one poor soul who had been so close to the caves. They had been crushed from the waist up just inches away from the cellar hatch by a large segment of flooring. To make matters worse, the heavy rubble had also caved in the hatch, making it impossible to get down there without assistance.

Guided by circumstance, he shouted through the cracks into the cellar, hoping at least someone would hear him. His prayers were soon answered with clear signs of life. Before he could get a proper exchange going, however, Rias called out to him from where she had been searching.

"Commander, we've got survivors!"

"So have I," Feldrik called back.

"If they aren't in any immediate need of aid, they can wait."

The degree of urgency in Rias' voice was unexpected, but he couldn't ignore the people in the caves. It was only when they insisted they were okay that he made his way to Rias.

She was in another ruined segment of the tower with just under two dozen survivors in varying degrees of consciousness. Feldrik was amazed. He had expected one or two people to have survived the tower's collapse outside of the caves. The surprising truth of the matter was nothing short of a miracle.

What truly amazed Feldrik, however, was that one of the survivors was on her feet, albeit with Rias' assistance. The young Ferran girl was going round giving everyone water with little regard for her own injuries. From her tattered noble garb and familial resemblance to Lord Darren, Feldrik came to the simple conclusion that she was a relative of his, likely a sister.

"Is this it?" Feldrik asked his lieutenant.

The girl answered in Rias' stead. "There were more, but they didn't survive the storm. I couldn't get them to shelter."

"You have done more than enough, milady. You should rest. I can have Rias here escort you back to Caer Luen."

"I can't leave my brother!"

"Excuse me?"

"Lord Darren," Rias explained.

"He protected me when the tower collapsed on top of us. Now he won't wake up."

"Are you sure…"

"He's not dead! See, he's still breathing."

With his eyes now looking at where the girl was pointing, Feldrik saw the unconscious body of Lord Darren. His chest was rising and falling as the young lady had suggested, though only just.

"I brought medics with me, milady, and I assure you that your brother will get the best treatment we can manage. In the meantime, you'll only be in the way. Both myself and Lord Darren will rest easier knowing that you are safe within Caer Luen's walls."

Feldrik prayed that she wasn't as stubborn as her brother.

"I'll leave when the full rescue team that you no doubt sent for arrives. Until then, I can still help with water."

A hint of a compromise. Feldrik could work with that.

"If you insist. However, I must insist in kind that a medic tends to your injuries. That arm of yours is probably broken and you might have some internal bleeding."

Feldrik wasn't sure of the bleeding, but the arm was in dire need of setting and it was better to be safe than sorry. Fortunately, the young lady nodded her assent.

When the rescue team finally arrived and Lord Darren was being fully cared for, she held up her end of the bargain and left with Rias. With her gone and the team in position, the rescue operation could finally begin in earnest.

*****

Queen Elarin sat solemnly on her throne. She was exhausted. In the months that had followed her daughter's disappearance, she had barely slept. Even with her best agents looking into it, the investigation was going far too slowly. Furthermore, the attack on Næmyris only muddied the waters.

At first, the two events seemed completely unrelated, a tragic coincidence. However, as her agents investigated, they discovered evidence that many, many more mass kidnappings had been carried out over the course of the past five years.

The realisation that so many children had been taken from their homes was mortifying, and the fact that Queen Elarin was only just hearing about it was even worse. Almost every report from the afflicted areas failed to state the truth of the matter. Instead, they seemed intent on selling the lie that the attacks were nothing more than common banditry and that they were being dealt with.

So much for trusting that the northern territories could police themselves without any need of further supervision. At the same time, Queen Elarin acknowledged that she was also at fault to some small degree. She had been overly lax in her direct governing of the counties outside of the heartlands.

Someone was taking advantage of her policies and now she was determined to find who. Maybe then, she could start making it up to her daughter and the countless children she had failed.

*****

"Abandon ship!"

Malin didn't need telling a second time. The devils of the Midiran Navy had found them and there was no escape.

He dove into the Sea of Fire with only seconds to spare as the mast of the ship exploded. A sailor landed just in front of him, a giant splinter impaling his gut.

That could have been him. He sighed in relief when suddenly water started filling his lungs, and a sharp pain radiated from just below his hip. A Dramach had bitten into his side and it was dragging him under.

Is this where I die?

Malin's vision was starting to fade when the Dramach released him and he was pulled out of the water. When he opened his eyes again he was on the deck of a navy vessel with several spears pointed at his face.

The captain of the ship stared at him with murderous intent. If looks could kill.

"Tell me where the rest of you are hiding and I'll ease your suffering."

Karma at last.

*****

"Aunt Nia, look at this!"

The kindly matriarch of Clan Sari smiled at the young boy who came running into her room with a giant carrot in his hands.

"What do you have here, sweetie?" she asked.

"It's from the garden! I dug it up myself."

"Nicely done."

"Mimi Reika says that we're going to have a really good harvest this year."

From the look of that carrot, Reika was right, which was unusual. Every single forecast until that point had indicated a somewhat lacking yield for the crop that year. Now they had giant vegetables growing in the garden. It was as if all the crops had undergone a massive growth spurt overnight.

Nia wasn't sure who she had to thank for this miracle, but whoever it was was deserving of the biggest hug.

*****

Mount Cragmor on the island of Færich Lan was once again painting the sky with soot and ash following its third eruption in less than a month. The beast could not be contained, and its roar threatened to wake the slumbering Chain of Fire.

*****

The Azure City trembled ever so slightly in the wake of yet another earthquake. The odd tremor was far from unusual, but the frequency was starting to become a little concerning, even if the magnitude was barely noticeable. King Dreigan wondered if it was a sign of things to come. His recent conversation with Queen Elarin of Llen Fær only reinforced the idea.

She had come to him with terrible news of treachery and banditry within her fair nation. Countless children had been taken from their homes. The news struck close to home with the birth of his nephew, and his unease was further amplified when he recalled various reports of similar things happening all across Ferran. More disturbing still was that Særis was largely untouched by such crimes.

Queen Elarin's own investigations had also led her towards Særis, though her trail ended at the border. That she confided in him when all the evidence painted him as a suspect was a great honour worthy of respect. As a show of appreciation, he joined his intelligence with hers in an attempt to rout out the villains and put an end to their scheming. He just had to be careful that the change of focus didn't weaken the southern border of Ferran too much after the collapse of Keilan's Gaze.

*****

Lord Fein held true to his word; Seres had been left completely untouched. Well, physically speaking, at least. She was still subject to countless attempts at indoctrination and mind games. They were particularly fond of trying to guilt trip her into breaking. They failed, of course. Rowan wasn't about to let herself be used against Seres.

All it took was following Amran's advice. Talking made for an excellent counter-attack to the psychological warfare the torturers employed. It was also essential for proving that Lord Fein hadn't broken his end of the bargain, which is the prime reason they hadn't been separated.

He tried it once and it almost ended in disaster.

As time went on, Rowan truly fell into the sister role as Seres started undergoing the familiar process of puberty. It was difficult at first; the caves weren't exactly built with feminine hygiene in mind. Even so, they got by.

There were, however, some unforeseen challenges as both girls started garnering more attention from some of the denizens in the cell. Rowan had to fight off the first few advances before they got the idea. Amran also helped, though in a less violent manner.

When months became years, Rowan started laying the groundwork for their escape. When the time came, she would be ready.